Capitão
by RattytheScourge
Summary: Cluny says goodbye to his ship... Betarider - Lepidolite Mica.


The Scourge of Seas was dying painfully, enveloped in fire and half submerged in the water. The roar of wind among the remains of masts and deck produced a howl like a wounded animal.

Cluny the Scourge stood waist-deep in the water, watching the sad spectacle. A few paces up the beach, where the waves had thrown them to the shore, a battered crew of searats huddled together, having only narrowly escaped death in the terrible storm. They stared with terror in wide eyes; they watched as their ship, their _home,_ sank into the deep.

A deluge of fond memories came flooding into Cluny's mind, almost as torrential as the waves that battered his ship. He joined the crew in his early seasons as a cabin rat, and together with everybeast shared the joys and sorrows of a difficult life at sea. He scaled the rigging with great spirit and gusto; furled, released, and mended the sails as necessary; swabbed the decks, polished the weapons, and performed any other duties the captain tasked him with; and studied the stars nightly that he might learn to navigate by their light. So much had happened aboard that ship, so many events that had changed the course of his life forever!

He worked his way through the ranks, becoming a sailor, then a rigger, then the ship's boatswain. As his time at sea stretched out, so too did the treasures he won. Rare and valuable ores stolen from distant lands, exotic prizes won from uncharted colonies, a gold earring earned for his first successful equatorial crossing, and, at long last, captaincy! With fiery eyes and fearsome roar, he led his crew to victory after countless victory; from his mighty vessel he leapt into combat, subduing and raiding ships of trade and war with equal zeal.

The memories of those glory days brought a twinge of pain; he gritted his teeth and stared forward, only half-watching, as the main mast slowly toppled.

After his rise to captaincy, the _Scourge of Seas_ became more than just a home to him; she was almost another creature in her own right. With the kind of finesse only a true seabeast could offer, Cluny tended to the _Scourge_ , ensuring that she was never in any less than the best condition. He vividly recalled standing on the bridge, supervising the crew around him as they rolled up sleeves and pantlegs and scoured the deck from bow to stern. His mind's ear began to hear Boatswain Darkclaw, shouting a mix of directives and inventive obscenities as he drove everybeast to work harder, faster, _better, you fur-forsaken slackers!_ When her magnificent sails caught the wind, the _Scourge_ cut through the waves, the seafoam parting like the wings of a majestic white bird, as she brought her terror to every ship, merchant or military, that dared cross her path.

And, if on the horizon should appear another corsair vessel, sailorbeasts like ants would ascend the rigging to loose the sails; and the _Scourge of Seas_ , as if an extension of her master's will, would surge forward without hesitation and leave any competition choking in her wake. A melancholy smile crept across Cluny's face, despite his tears. He had no doubt that she could have easily surpassed any vessel on the seas.

And, oh, the dinners in his cabin! Traditionally, the captain would invite to dinner his chief mate, boatswain, chief of watch, navigator, and a selection of other officers. Fellow searats sat 'round the table in their finest clothes, while Cluny, with a perspective far removed from his captaincy, entertained them as equals with fine wines and scrumptious dishes prepared by Master Cook Three-Leg. Those long hours of camaraderie fueled him in even the worst of times.

Cluny sighed. And to think they had weathered such a monstrous storm as this before while aboard her. But even when the waves threatened to overturn them and send them straight to the depths, even when all hope seemed lost, he stood fast on the forecastle deck, shouting orders above the storm, his posture radiating calm and confidence. All paws manned the deck, working with precision and speed in the knowledge that even the slightest delay could cost them their lives. They detached the sails and battened down the hatches, allowing the _Scourge of Seas_ to ride the waves free of the driving gale, as she was pushed around like a child's bath toy.

Even still, the ferocious blow of the storm was such that the wind knocked down the main mast, causing the ship to tip violently to the side and bringing the water level nearly up to the edge of the deck. With an order from Cluny, a pawful of fearless rats surged forward and let swing their axes. The mast fell free of the deck, and the ship returned to an upright position - or at the very least as upright as she could be on the terrible waves.

For two days, the crew hid below her decks, licking their wounds, biding their time, counting their blessings, and praying to whatever gods would listen that nothing would break through the hull and condemn them to a watery hell. As soon as the wind and waves subsided, they immediately set to patching the ship and jury rigging lost sails. They lashed up the bowsprit where the main mast used to stand, and made haste to the nearest island for more thorough repairs.

And what an island it was - Terramort, the pinnacle of piracy! The crew lost themselves and their worries in the crowd, sharing mouth-watering drinks, tumultuous brawls, bone-chilling tales and legends, and an endless torrent of exotic beasts and birds. But Cluny stayed detached from it all, and maintained a constant vigil over his home, his love, to ensure that she was returned to beyond perfection.

And when her rehabilitation was complete, once more the _Scourge of Seas_ returned to strike terror in the hearts of seafarers of all walks of life. Her hold filled with treasures regularly, which were then ferried away to hundreds of stashes in hidden coves across the coastline. All that treasure, now lost forever...

Cluny clenched his fists until his claws drew blood from his palms. All the treasure in the world would not bring her back. Nothing could ever replace her.

As the mast finally slipped away beneath the waves, he stiffened, bracing himself mentally. Right now, his crew needed a strong leader, and with the Quartermaster lost to the waves, he would have to do. "Right then." He turned to his crew. "Our time at sea has come to an end. Gather whatever can be salvaged; we're going to rule the land instead."

As everyrat collected together and began the trek south, Cluny risked one last glance at the _Scourge_ 's final resting place. He felt his lip tremble, and he thanked whatever gods there were that the rain obscured his tears.


End file.
